


as close as i can get to you

by caswell



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Borderline Personality Disorder, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 12:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14592627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caswell/pseuds/caswell
Summary: The hospital just left Jeremy feeling numb. Michael is there to warm him up.





	as close as i can get to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knourish (OceanicWaters)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanicWaters/gifts).



It's funny- Jeremy never really wanted to go to the hospital in the first place, but now that he's out, he has no idea what to do. His bed is cold from disuse; he sits at the foot of it and stares at his palms. He hadn't talked to his father on the entire car ride home. He didn't know what to say.

It did help, technically. Jeremy wasn't able to hurt himself or anything. But still, how much distress tolerance can you learn in five days? Not much. Five days and a huge hospital bill later- shit insurance, of course, because his life demands to be as bad as possible- he feels close to the same. At least he got a break from school and stuff, and he could probably get out of doing the homework he missed.

Still. What’s he to do with himself now?

Weakly, Jeremy takes out his newly un-confiscated phone out of the front pocket of his jeans and holds down the home button. “Siri, call Michael,” he instructs.

 

Jeremy flops down with a huff of breath onto the softness of Michael’s bed, closing his eyes tight. “You didn’t come visit me,” he says after a long stretch of silence. It hurt. Did it hurt? Jeremy decides that that hurts. 

“I thought you needed a break,” Michael explains, looking at him with an uncharacteristic sorrow in his eyes. “I figured… maybe you didn’t wanna see me. Which is totally okay! I get it, but-”

“Of  _ course  _ I wanted to see you,” Jeremy says. “Why would I not want to see you? You’re my best friend.”

Michael doesn’t seem to have an response to that, so, in lieu of answering, he asks, “Are you feeling better?”

That’s a good question.  _ Is  _ he feeling better? He was pretty damn suicidal before he checked himself in. Y’know, the good ol’ cocktail of mental illnesses- depression, anxiety, borderline personality disorder (thanks, Mom!)- combined with the stress of living a life post-SQUIP, that’s fucking  _ hard  _ on someone. Jeremy’s always been one to fold under pressure. Stress-crying over finals, giving in to bullying since the second grade- that’s him.

But now, he’s… well, he’s okay, at least. He’s safe. He’s stable. That’s more than he could say a week ago. So he supposes he’s feeling better. “A little, I guess,” he settles on. “But now I have to go back to school and shit. People are gonna ask where I was.” Technically, most people go to a partial day program after hospitalization, but the Heeres don’t really have the money for that. His mom was the decently wealthy one, not his dad.

Wordlessly, Michael lays down beside Jeremy and brushes the hair away from his forehead. “You could lie,” he says. “Say you were on vacation in New York or something.”

Jeremy laughs bitterly at the suggestion. “Yeah, right. They’d ask what I did.”

“Use the itinerary from when we went there in middle school,” Michael suggests. “They won’t remember it.”

Jeremy shakes his head. “I don’t remember it. I don’t remember much from middle school.”

Michael hums in acknowledgement, and, after a break of silence, says, “I just wish I knew what you were going through.”

Jeremy opens his eyes and frowns up at the ceiling. “No, you don’t,” he says. “You-  _ I  _ don’t want you to know what I’m going through. I don’t want you to know this pain.” It sounds sappy, but it’s true- he just wants Michael to be happy and carefree. It’s how he should be. Michael should be the upbeat one, and Jeremy should be the depressed one.

“I  _ do,  _ though,” Michael says. “I want to be there for you. I don’t care if you’ve got demons, man, I want you along for the ride.”

Jeremy can’t comprehend that. He  _ can’t.  _ His flaws aren’t something to be accepted and embraced- he’s petty, depressive, mood swingy, jealous… he’s  _ everything.  _ He’s fundamentally fucked up. “Yeah, but…  _ why?”  _ he asks, turning his gaze to look over at Michael out of the corner of his eye.

“We were just talking about it, man, you’re my best friend,” Michael answers. “Why would I not? I love you. I’m not ever going to stop loving you.”

Oh. Well. That’s a lot to take in. Jeremy turns his head away to hide the blush that rises to his cheeks. It’s hard when someone you’ve been lowkey in love with for a while tells you something like that. Well, maybe lowkey in love is the wrong way to describe it, but either way- who else would it be? He wouldn’t say no to dating him, is the deal. But he probably didn’t mean it that way in the first place. “I love you, too,” he says finally. “A lot. So, thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Michael says. “It’s my pleasure. Genuinely. Now, c’mere.” He taps Jeremy on the shoulder, and, after a second of processing, he obediently sits up, looking at Michael with a mildly confused gaze. Michael sits up as well, and leans over, taking him in his arms, a tight embrace.

Jeremy doesn’t understand the gesture- he really doesn’t. Logically, he knows that hugging someone is what you do in this situation, but does he deserve a hug? Michael is so  _ good.  _ Why him? Still, he wraps his arms around him, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. “Thank you,” he says, despite Michael’s scolding.

“Like I said,” Michael murmurs. “There’s no need for thanks. Just let it happen. Please, Jeremy.”

Why do those words make him ache? Why? Jeremy takes in a sharp exhalation and breathes it out slow; he’s not gonna cry, he’s not gonna cry, not again- alright, so he’s tearing up, whatever. Whatever.

“Jeremy? Buddy, are you okay?” Michael asks as Jeremy starts to shake slightly, breaths becoming more and more ragged.

Jeremy nods against Michael’s shoulder. “I’m fine,” he mumbles. “Don’t worry about me.”

“No can do, sorry,” Michael says. Gently, he unlatches Jeremy from him, holding him at arm’s length. Jeremy blinks away tears- he’s so stupid, he’s so needy, what the fuck is his problem-

Michael kisses him.

Albeit, it’s on the forehead, but it’s still a kiss. That rips the tears from Jeremy’s eyes; they stream down his face as he makes a low, guttural sound. “Michael, I don’t… get it,” he says, so quiet, so small.

“I love you,” Michael says, and it evens out the sharp edges, fits where he doesn’t, cracks at the ice of his heart.

It’s not a fix- it won’t ever be a fix, this won’t be fixed- but still, Jeremy whispers, “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I love you!  
> This was a commission for my friend Ithiel! If you'd like to commission me for writing, or you just wanna talk, my tumblr is africabytoto1982 (prev. deadgirlwalking).


End file.
